


Scars

by uniquebydesign



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pillow Talk, pre-collector base
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquebydesign/pseuds/uniquebydesign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a Kmeme prompt: Shepard wakes up from Cerberus and realizes she has none of her past scars. Shepard proceeds to tell Garrus about her past scars, and what they mean to her. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

After the first time they had sex, shortly before they faced the Collectors, Jane and Garrus were spooning on Jane’s large bed.

Shepard was pretty damn sure her head looked like a bird’s nest, but judging by her shit-eating grin, she couldn’t have cared less.

She’d just had the best damn sex of her life, with her best friend, now lover. And for now, she was content just to lie next to him, catching her breath as he ran his talons along her arms, over her hips and back up her arms in a lovely caressing loop.

She felt his hand still before feeling the tips of his manicured talons circle the skin around her elbow lightly.

“They got rid of your scar.”

She reached up to trace the now smooth skin where a long jagged scar used to be, just along the side of her arm, next to her elbow. Her smile fell.

She nodded. “And all the others.” She couldn’t help the bitterness from leaking into her tone.

Garrus paused, talons wrapping around her upper arm gently. “How many were there?”

Shepard didn’t have to deliberate long. “I’d say at least fifteen. Most of them I got as a kid living on Mindoir.”

“Do you remember how you got them?”

“Of course.” She said, lips twitching again in a small smile. She shifted away from him, turning so that they were face to face. After a moment, she held up her left hand.

“I had a small one on the inside of my thumb. Got it when I was five while picking flowers for my mom’s birthday. I split my thumb open on one of the damn thorns.” She chuckled. “I distinctly recall my mom being more pissed than happy when I gave her the flowers.”

“I wonder why.”

Shepard gave him a look at his comment before continuing. She pointed to the back of her right hand.

“I had a burn mark here from a cigarette.” At Garrus’ raised eyebrow plates she elaborated. “My cousin Rick was a jackass and a drunk. He was wasted, he burned me ‘on accident’. Didn’t matter, my dad saw and punched him in the throat.”

Garrus’ dual toned laugh filled the air, soon accompanied by Shepard’s rich laughter.

“And the others?” Garrus asked, subtly asking Shepard to keep talking.

Jane cleared her throat against the sudden tightness, and continued. “This one,” She said, pointing to the one on her elbow. “I got from my big brother when we were sparring one day in our backyard. We were using gardening tools. Who knew a mini shovel could be so damn sharp?” She grimaced at the memory. “I got even, kicked him in the balls while he was distracted.” Her tone was seeping with amusement. “His face? Priceless.”

Garrus looked confused for a moment, before understanding dawned and Shepard swore he looked a little green. She grinned, and leaned in to kiss him on the nose. “It’s a good thing you’ve got plating big guy. I’m not above fighting dirty.”

“Remind me to thank the spirits for that later.”

“Will do.” She said, smiling. She switched her attention to her legs, running the palms of her hands over them speculatively. “I had a bunch down here, smaller ones. Most of them from falling or sliding down the rocky hills near my house. I didn’t wear long pants like my mom always told me to wear, so whenever I fell, which was pretty often, I’d get a new scar.”

“Hmm, nice to know you were stubborn since birth.”

She slapped him on the arm playfully, before clearing her throat and finally rubbing the skin on her left shoulder, just slightly left of her collarbone.

“I used to have a scar here, from the Batarian raid.” She paused. “It was a bullet wound, a little star shaped scar. The Batarian who shot me--“ She swallowed. “He was one of the three that came to my house. The first one killed my brother, before my dad killed him. The second one got pissed, shot my dad while my mom and I were running out of the house.”

She stopped for a moment before continuing. “My mom shoved me under the supply table in the shed, but not before I grabbed a gun off of the wall. It was small, a little rusty old revolver. We used it to shoot animals in the wilderness about five miles from my house.”

“The third Batarian followed us, busted down the door to the shed not long after we entered. He shot my mom before I even had my gun raised.” She swallowed thickly, past the bile that rose in her throat. “God I remember my hands, I was shaking like a little bitch.” Her lips twisted in a cruel grimace. “Even if I had taken the shot, I would’ve missed.” She looked down at her hands now, noticed them trembling, and clenched them into fists.

“He didn’t shoot her in the head, or in the chest. It was a gut wound; he wanted her to bleed out; he wanted her to watch him kill me.”

“He found me under the table, and I shot him. Just barely missed his head; it was a glancing wound.

“The fucker didn’t know shit about human anatomy, because he shot me at point blank range and only shattered my shoulder. Or maybe he was just a terrible shot. Anyway, I was playing dead, waiting for him to get a little closer so I could shoot him again. He stood over my body, kicked my leg to make sure I was dead, before turning around to face my mother. As soon as he looked away I shot him. Blew his head off.”

“The second Batarian, the one that killed my dad, ran inside the shed about thirty seconds later. But I was ready for him.” Her mouth twitched into a small smile.

“Shot him too, right between the eyes.” She paused, her opaque gaze shifted, staring at nothing. “Did you know Batarian blood is red? Just like humans. When the Alliance showed up I couldn’t tell whose blood was on me, mine, or theirs.”

Jane was aware of her labored breathing, but she could do nothing to stop it. She was lost in the story, lost in the past.

She could see the two dead Batarians in front of her, clear as day. The smell of their blood filled her nose, making her head ache and her eyes burn. She could see the look in her mother’s eyes as she watched her little girl turn into a killer, a _monster--_

She was brought back to reality when Garrus dragged her to his chest, crushing her much softer body into his plated one. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed, thankful for him, for this.

She didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but after a while she turned her head to the side so she could speak.

“Do you know why I don’t give a shit about your scars, Garrus?”

“Because you think they’re sexy?”

She grinned. “Well, there’s that.” She conceded. “But I think a person’s scars are a permanent reminder of the battles they fought.” She brought a hand up to caress his scarred, bandaged cheek. “It shows how strong you are, but also how mortal. It’s like nature’s reminder never to forget, never to take anything for granted.” She met his cobalt blue gaze. “That’s what your scars remind me of, how close I came to losing you.”

“My scars…my old ones, they remind me of home. They keep me from forgetting my past. Even though I’m the first human Spectre and Commander Fucking Shepard, I started off as Jane. Just Jane.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and croaked out, “And now they’re gone—“

“Are they?” Garrus asked.

Shepard opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Well, yeah. You just said yourself that they’re gone—“

“But they’re not gone. Yes, you can’t see them, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t remember where they were, or what they meant.” He shrugged, something he picked up from her. “It’s not so much the actual scars as the memories behind them. Scars fade, but it’s the memories that stay with us.”

At her watering eyes, Garrus continued, nuzzling the top of her red fringe. “And I know you won’t forget.”

Shepard shook her head, a watery smile breaking across her face. She burrowed her head in Garrus’ cowl, bringing him closer to her. “Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
